


Handprints

by rowofstars



Series: Once Upon a Ficlet [9]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Flirting, F/M, Fluff, Kid Baelfire, Kissing, Light Angst, Prompt Fic, Romance, Spinner Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9113215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Anon prompt on Tumblr for "window washer Gold."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Totally forgot to post this here. Oops!

The cold blue liquid ran down Gold’s hand and into the cuff of his shirt.

It smelled like a noxious mix of bleach and winterfresh, but he almost didn’t notice anymore. His hands were red and cold and they’d be raw by the end of the day, but he pulled the sponge over the glass, pressing hard with the minimal strength he had left in his arms. Flipping the pole around, he leaned forward and used his body weight to push the rubber flat before he dragged it back down.

It squeaked and slipped and squeaked again as the wind bit at his cheeks.

Gold set down the bucket and sponge, and carefully fed the rope up, lowering the cradle that suspended him along the side of the building. Every week it was the same, clean one side and then another and then another after that. It took almost a month to go around the building and by the time he was done he had to start all over again. He spent his time trying not to think too much and idly watching the tenants.

They never watched him back.

He was one of the unseen, the overlooked, the unimportant.

He knew this and accepted it. It was his lot in life, and had always been from his earliest days. On some level he had known that moving to a new country would change nothing about that for him. But for his son it had meant opportunities the boy didn’t have before, and that made everything he suffered worthwhile.

On the next level down, Gold stopped and sighed.

Belle French.

She was new, only moved in a couple of months ago, and from what he’d seen so far she loved tea and books, and she was alarmingly pretty. She would wave to him sometimes, and look at him through the window and smile. It was like she actually saw _him_ , as person. It felt - nice.

He dipped the sponge into the bucket and set about scrubbing the dead bugs from the leftmost window, while on the other side of the glass Belle moved around her kitchen. Just as he was swapping to a rag to get the last of the guts out of the seam between the panes a shadow fell over him.

He glanced up and then startled, wobbling on his bad leg until he grabbed the railing of the cradle. Then his ankle gave way and he dropped onto his backside with a grunt.

Belle knelt down by the window, her palms pressed to it and her mouth open in an _‘oh’_ he couldn’t hear.

“I’m sorry!” She mouthed.

Gold stared at her. His knuckles were white from the grip he had on the metal bar, not because he was afraid of falling, the safety strap would make sure he didn’t, but because she was even prettier up close. He wished there wasn’t almost a half inch of glass between them.

“S’alright,” he managed finally, shouting as if she’d be able to hear him. His heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of his chest.

She beamed at him and said, “I’m Belle.”

He smiled back at her, wishing he could hear her voice.

She shrugged and then, still smiling, very slowly said, “Nice to meet you.”

Gold laughed and shook his head, then replied, “You too.”

She laughed, and he imagined it was the loveliest sound.

They both pushed to their feet, him a bit slower and more unsteady, and then laughed again. After a moment of just looking at each other, Belle nodded and then walked away. He could still see her when she turned and waved, and he raised his hand to wave back, pressing it against the glass.

A few minutes later, she was out of sight, and Gold was busy washing away his palm print from the window. As he lowered himself down to the next floor, he stopped and stared at the handprints she left behind on the lower part of the glass.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> still-searching47 asked: Handprints!Belle: Have you ever brought Gold coffee when he's at ground level? Learned his name? Handprints!Gold: How old is your son?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BECAUSE I CAN’T JUST LEAVE IT BE OF COURSE I CAN’T. Once again I forgot to post this here because I'm dumb.

“Hi!”

The voice startled Gold and he almost dropped his squeegee on the pavement. He blinked at the brunette haired woman, and then his eyes went wide.

“Miss - French?” he said, straightening and squaring his shoulders.

Belle nodded and beamed at him, holding out a cup with one of those cardboard bands around the middle. He frowned and took it from her, sighing audibly when he felt how warm it was. The bucket and squeegee were set down in favor of wrapping his hands around the cup. It had a logo from the coffee shop across the street, one he had gone into once before he’d seen the prices. Seven dollars for a basic cup of coffee was far more than he could spare.

She continued to smile at him. “I thought you could use a hot drink to warm you up.”

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.” Then he popped off the top, smiling when he saw the rich, black coffee inside.

“I, um, didn’t know how you took it so…” She shrugged.

“Black is fine,” he said. “Sometimes with a little sugar, but -”

Belle immediately reached in her pocket and held out a packet of sugar. “I grabbed an extra just in case.”

Gold shook his head and tore open the packet with his teeth. She was probably the nicest person in the entire world. No one else would even look at him, much less go through the trouble of bringing him coffee at the end of a long, cold shift.

“Thank you,” he managed, suddenly overcome with emotion as the sugar spilled into the coffee.

“It’s no trouble,” she said. “I just - you looked so cold and -” She shrugged again. “I’m Belle.”

He looked up from the cup with wide eyes. She was offering him her first name. “Oh, um, Roland.”

She stuck out a gloved hand and he shook it with his bare, half frozen one.

“Nice to meet you, finally, but I, uh, I need to get going,” she said, look over her shoulder and then back to him. “I’m sorry!”

He nodded. Of course she probably had other things to do than talk to him, but this small kindness was the most he could remember in some time.

“Bye, Roland!” she called out, already halfway to the bus stop on the corner and pushed up on her toes to wave at him.

Gold raised a hand and waved back.

A few minutes later, the coffee was cool enough to drink, and he sipped carefully, waiting for the light to turn before he crossed the street. The walk back to his tiny apartment and his precious six year old son had never felt warmer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> still-searching47 asked: Handprints!Gold: Did you tell you son about the nice lady that lives in the building - Belle - who brought the coffee? Or maybe your friend David (because sheep bros heh) did he try and matchmake the two of you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey look, the only thing I’ve managed to write in the last week. Go me. And also a very old TMI Tuesday message. Sorry! (In case it’s not clear, David is basically at the same economic level he was in the EF originally as a shepherd. He and Gold both work in Belle’s building as maintenance/janitor type staff.)

“You should ask her out.”

Gold nearly dropped his glass of scotch. It rattled against the bar but he caught it and held it firmly until he was sure it wouldn’t fall and shatter. They’d probably make him pay for it and he couldn’t afford that. He could only afford to have a drink with his friend, David, because David was buying.

He turned and gaped at David. “W-what?”

David shrugged one shoulder and took another sip off his beer. “She’s drop dead gorgeous, and she likes you.”

Gold blinked. “W-what? Sh-she’s just being nice, that’s all.”

David snorted and shook his head. “Gold, I’ve worked in that building for _five years_ , and despite Miss French being one of the nicest, sweetest people on the planet, she has _never_ brought me coffee. Not once. Much less every day for a week while she also smiles adoringly and makes moon eyes out the window at me while I work.”

Gold looked away from his friend and stared into the glass of scotch. Belle had brought him coffee quite often, but she went for herself and was just being kind. Yes, she watched him work sometimes, if she was home, which was most of the time when he was on that side of the building. And she smiled a lot. And brought him a sandwich - _no_ , a gourmet chicken salad on a flaky, buttery croissant - from some cafe near her office. But none of that meant anything, did it?

David slapped him on the shoulder as he got up off the bar stool. “Face it, Gold. She likes you, and you like her.”

Gold sighed and downed the last of his scotch. It was well after five and he needed to get home to make supper for his son. “I don’t know what to do,” he whined.

The other man shook his head again. “Keep it simple,” David said, throwing a few bills on the bar to cover their tab. “Ask her to go for coffee or something. But like, actually go to the cafe, you know? Sit down and talk.”

“About what?” he asked, bewildered. “I don’t really even _know_ her.”

David smiled as they stepped out into the crisp November air. “So _get_ to know her,” he said. “Isn’t that kind of the point, anyway?”

Gold just shrugged.

David squeezed his shoulder. “I gotta get going,” he said as he started down the street. “I’ll see you Monday!”

Gold watched David go until he disappeared around the corner, and then turned, wincing at the sharp pain in his leg. It was always worse when it was cold and it would be so for at least the next four months. Soon, he would stop washing the windows for the winter, save for the ones in the lobby on the first floor and Miss Cora’s office. His hours would be cut almost in half and he’d have to go back to miscellaneous handyman work in order to get by. At least he’d managed to save up a little, enough for a month’s rent if he needed it. 

With another heavy sigh, he started off down the street, hoping he would make the bus and not have to walk the extra five blocks. He wished he had even a little of David’s courage and confidence. Maybe a little of his looks too. Then he might feel like he could have a chance to just be friends with Belle, much less anything else. The whole thing seemed ridiculous. What could Belle possibly see in a lowly window washer?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For tinuviel-undomiel who prompted me ages ago for "Belle writes messages on the window for Gold." I do have a plan for the rest of this verse, but I'm always taking prompts!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone remember this fic? So I'm pushing to finish up some WIPs in the last quarter of this year and this is one of them. I have 3 small ideas left so probably 1 chapter each and while I won't be taking them all the way through to a honeymoon or anything, I will leave them in a place that's obviously very hopeful for the future and well on their way to a happy ending. Unbeta'd. There's probably errors galore.

Monday morning was an early day for Gold. He was out of the apartment just before six, after making sure that his son was awake and dressed for school. Bae hated the early days as much as Gold did, but there wasn’t much to do be done about it. The weather called for bad storms in the afternoon, which meant he needed as many hours of the morning as possible to get at least half of the west side of the building done, which included Belle’s apartment.

David’s words had lingered in Gold’s mind through the weekend, and he found himself replaying nearly every interaction he’d had with the lovely Miss French on his walk to work. Belle’s behavior confused him. She’d brought him coffee a number of times, a sandwich once, and according to David, she also “made eyes” at him while he worked. He hadn’t really noticed much of that, but then he always tried to focus on what he was doing and not stare in the windows of the building’s tenants. Too much of that was a fireable offense.

He decided that the next time they had an encounter, if the moment felt right, that he would ask her to get coffee sometime and just see where things went. If nothing else, he might find that she just wanted to be his friend, and he didn’t have many of those.

It took him the better part of four hours to reach the windows on Belle’s floor. By that time the temperature had dropped several degrees and the wind had picked up considerably. The cradle swayed with each gust and Gold was practically clinging to the railing by the time he got to her apartment.

The windows were foggy, and he frowned as he bent to tie off the loose end of the rope and pick up his squeegee. He dipped it in the cleaning solution, and when he straightened, he nearly dropped it. His brain stuttered over the image of the squeegee tumbling in the air and falling nine floors to the pavement below as he stared at Belle’s smiling face.

She had wiped off some of the fog and condensation with her hand, and he blinked. She tilted her head and laughed, and he started to smile. To the side he saw there was a flame in the gas fireplace, which he assumed was the reason for the fogged glass.

She mouthed _I’m sorry_ at him, and then gave him a sheepish shrug. She said something else after that, but he couldn’t read her lips and frowned again, shaking his head. She repeated herself, her mouth opening wider and more exaggeratedly, which just made him laugh. He still didn’t understand, so he shook his head again and shrugged.

At that moment, a gust of wind blew against him, and the cradle wobbled. He grabbed at the railing and pressed his gloved hand to the glass, wincing as he had to brace with his whole body. It put awkward pressure on his bad leg and he nearly bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. He didn’t want to show how weak and pathetic he was in front of Belle.

When he hoped his eyes, she was staring at him, eyes wide in concern. He gave her a half smiled and a thumbs up as soon as he righted himself. Then Belle shifted to the side, where part of the window was still fogged up. She bit her lip and raised her hand, rubbing away the condensation with her finger as she trailed it down the glass. 

He was confused for a moment until he realized that she was writing letters backwards on the glass, or at least trying to. She did well with the L and U, but the N gave her pause, and he snickered. She gave him a look and then finished it with a wobbly question mark that faced the wrong way. His eyes scanned the letters again, and he laughed.

_L U N C H?_

Belle shrugged and smiled, pointing to what she’d written. She mouthed _today_ at him, lifting her eyebrows in question and inclined her head. Gold realized he didn’t need to ask her for coffee, or anything else. She was inviting him on a lunch date. He nodded, and his heart leapt when she clapped her hands together once and beamed at him in obvious pleasure. She wrote a _12_ and another question mark, this one a bit misshapen, but facing the right way, and he grinned.

After they were clear that they would meet downstairs in the lobby at noon, Belle popped up off the ottoman she’d been sitting on, and went back to sit at her desk in the other room, where the windows had a better view of the city and the bridge in the distance. Despite several more stiff gusts of wind and some burgeoning drops of rain falling on his head, Gold felt light and warm.

He had a lunch date. Perhaps David was right after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon on Tumblr asked about Belle's apartment and how she affords such a swanky place so this is a partial explanation of her circumstances. I have a lot of headcanon for this Belle's history, but I'm not sure it will all get out. Here we have the aftermath of the lunch date, and another “date” of sorts. Also Belle is very good at making sure the woobie knows her intentions. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the prompt, Anon! I hope I answered your question enough through this chapter. I think have the rest of the story planned out from here, maybe two more chapters. :) This one kinda got longer than the others. Oops!

Gold was surprised at how well his lunch date with Belle went. He couldn’t stop fidgeting as he waited outside the building for her, and while they were waiting for their food he’d nearly knocked over his iced tea and hers. He was an awkward mess, but Belle had put her hand over his and everything went still. Her hand was warm, her smile soft, her eyes so blue and bright, that the rest of the world faded away. 

She was as delightful to spend time with as he’d imagined, and somehow he’d managed not to make an idiot of himself. The only thing that worried him was being able to afford something in the posh little cafe she’d chosen, but she had insisted on paying since it had been her idea. By the end, his little crush, the faraway dream that was Belle as he caught glimpses of her from outside her world of wealth and comfort, had grown ten fold. But it only served to made his heart feel heavier because he knew nothing could ever come of it.

She had to know his circumstances, and he couldn’t help wondering if she was just being nice. She knew where he worked and what he did. Gold didn’t want it to bother him, but it felt like the elephant in the room. It was hard to imagine anything happening between them, that sort of thing was only for movies and fairytales. She was the beautiful princess in the high tower, and he was the pauper who was supposed to turn into a prince and sweep her off her feet. Except he was no prince, and it would take some kind of magic or a miracle to make him one.

Yet, here he was, standing just inside the door of her apartment.

The weather had been terrible the last two days, the rain alternating between a near sleet that blew straight out of the west and pelted everyone in the face as they walked, and a torrential downpour of big, fat drops splattering everywhere. The temperature had dropped about ten degrees as well, and he’d been unable to work outside. David had a few jobs for him to help with, but he’d finished up what he could for now. 

He’d been on his way out when he ran into Belle in the lobby. She’d beamed at him and started chatting him up, ignoring the glare of Ms. Green from the eighth floor. Apparently she’d had such a lovely time on their little lunch date - and she’d actually used the word date which had him almost falling over in shock - that she invited him up to her place.

Gold looked down and bit back a sigh as his hands fidgeted in his pockets. His work boots were a stark contrast to the marble floor. She must want his help with something, he reasoned, that was why she’d asked him to come up. Even if he wished things were different, a chance at some side money was a better option than going home with only a half day’s pay. 

“Tea?” Belle called out to him from the kitchen. 

He blinked and looked around before catching her staring at him. He smiled sheepishly and nodded, finally moving all the way into the apartment. The kitchen was open to the living room with an island and a breakfast bar. While she busied herself with the kettle and cups, he seated himself on one of the tall barstools, his hands folded on the sleek black granite counter. There was a slight sparkled to it, and he ran his hand over the smooth, cool surface. It looked expensive and it was a far cry from the chipped 70s formica of his little galley kitchen. In fact he was pretty sure his entire kitchen and the little dining area would fit inside hers.

He tried to focus on something else, and started watching Belle as she moved around the space with the same grace he imagined she did everything else.

“Are you really going to watch me make tea?” she asked, giving him a sweet, amused smile over her shoulder.

“I’d watch you do anything,” he said softly.

Belle turned around slowly, her eyebrows lifting, and Gold felt his face flush. He’d blurted out exactly what he’d been thinking and now she would chastise him and make it clear what he had already assumed. His instinct was just to turn and run, but he knew he couldn’t move that fast so he looked away, trying to avoid eye contact. Then he felt a hand on his, warm and curling around his fingers, and he looked up. She was smiling at him and biting her lip, and he started to smile back as she leaned on the counter.

“The, um, feeling is mutual,” she said, squeezing his hand.

He swallowed, stunned, and then grinned, feeling like his face might just split in half. “Yeah?”

Her head tilted to the side and she laughed as he turned his hand over so he could hold hers properly. She gave it another squeeze and nodded. “Yeah.”

Three hours later, with just enough time to make it home before his son got out of school, Gold was hurrying across the street, still smiling. He’d spent the entire afternoon with Belle, and nothing, not even the sharp sting of the cold rain hitting his face, could possibly sour his mood. He felt like he was walking on air.

Her main job right now was working from home doing copy editing for academic articles, mostly english and history, but she’d picked up a part-time job maintaining the catalog of collections for the local museum. He marveled at the fact that she had more than one job, and that she worked probably as much as he did, albeit in a slightly more comfortable environment. 

She only lived in this big apartment because her father insisted and paid for it, and if she had her way, she’d live in an old Victorian house with a garden in the back, a library, and one of those ladders that could slide around to reach all the shelves. He thought that sounded like heaven, and while she was talking he imagined how he might build such a thing for her if she ever bought her dream house.

When he left, she’d stopped him with a hand on his arm, and for a long moment they just looked at each other. The next thing he knew she was pressing her warm, soft lips to his cheek, and inviting him to spend the afternoon with her anytime he had a free afternoon.

Gold turned the corner and blinked as the wind blew the rain straight into his eyes. He bent his head and tucked his hands in his pockets, but he was still smiling. 

Maybe there was some magic in the world after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked if David was going to give Gold some dating advice, but this is what happened. Gold and David have another chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long for such a tiny update. :( This seemed like a better place to stop it since there's a small time jump. I have another short little part almost done and then it's maybe one more after that. David is the best wingman and friend a woobie Gold can have.
> 
> And check out the [amazing fanart for Handprints](https://rumple-belle.tumblr.com/post/166755820117/nropay-fan-art-for-handprints-by-rowofstars-i) done by the lovely @nropay!!

“So, you’re dating Belle, huh.”

Gold sputtered and nearly spit out the whiskey in his mouth. He set the glass down hard, and forced himself to swallow, which resulted in a coughing fit that had David slapping him on the back and waving at the bartender to bring them a glass of water. After a couple soothing gulps, he took a breath and looked incredulously at David.

“ _What?_ ”

David sat back on his barstool and held up his hands. “Well, I don’t know what else to call it when you two are making out in the elevator.”

Gold shook his head. “It’s - it’s not -” Then he sighed. 

The truth was that he didn't know what he and Belle were really. There had been a couple more lunch dates, a late afternoon coffee while Bae had an after school activity, and several afternoons spent talking in her apartment. All of those had ended with an increasingly passionate kiss. The last one, which David had caught them in the middle of when the elevator stopped abruptly on the third floor, had left his mind well and truly spinning.

David leaned forward on the bar. “It’s not what?”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

David raised his eyebrows. “But you two have been _seeing_ each other right? I mean you’ve been up to her apartment, and you’ve gone out to lunch? And you’ve certainly been doing... _things_. Seems like dating to me.”

He waved off the bartender’s offer of another drink and continued to nurse the last bit of his whiskey. “Just - just kissing. And talking.”

David snorted as Gold cringed, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I get it, Gold,” David said. “It’s hard. It was for me too, after Kathryn, but then I met Mary Margaret. Sometimes it just takes the right person to get you back in the game.”

He let out a short laugh and shook his head again. “I’m not sure I was ever in the game to begin with.”

“If you’re not sure just ask her.” David shrugged and pulled his wallet out of his coat pocket.

Gold gave his friend an uncertain look. The advice was sound on the surface, but once the question was out there, the answer might mean ruining even a chance at a friendship. He liked Belle. A lot. He was able to admit that to himself, and it certainly seemed like she might feel the same, but he was also afraid of what it would mean to have an actual relationship with someone, and to put himself in a position to have his heart broken. Again. There was also his son to consider, and more than anything he wanted to do right by his boy. 

“And what if it’s not what I want it to be?” he asked finally.

David shrugged. “Then at least you know, right?” 

Gold nodded, agreeing at least in principle even if he wasn’t sure he could summon the courage to actually talk to Belle about it. He finished his drink, and then got up to follow David out of the bar.

They both shivered as they stepped outside into the crisp fall air, and then said their goodbyes. Gold stopped at the corner and flipped up the collar on his jacket before shoving his chilled hands into his pockets. It was going to be a long walk home and his leg would probably be killing him by the time he got there. He sighed, knowing his feeble body was just another knock against him and any possible relationship with Belle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold and Belle establish they are in fact totally dating and make plans for an official Date, but Gold is still a woobie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so long after the last one was so short. I really am trying to keep these to ficlet length and failing badly. We are in the home stretch though. I don't have too much more planned for these nerds except what should comprise the final chapter or two. We'll see if I have to split it. I plan to finish this next week if all goes according to plan.

Belle’s back hit the bookshelves, rattling the contents and knocking a teacup, that had been perched on a stack of books, to the floor. She pulled on Gold’s shirt, keeping their lips pressed together a few seconds more. One of his hands cradled the back of her head, protecting it from the blunt edge of the wood shelf, the other bunched her sweater at her waist. 

He’d come up because she said something about an old spinning wheel needing repair, something the museum was just going to get rid of because it was broken and no one seemed to want it. Spinning was something he actually knew how to do, and as soon as he’d said so, her eyes had lit up. It had been impossible to say no to her after that.

Belle was grinning when she finally let him pull away. “Oops.”

Gold brought one hand to his lips, rubbing them as he look down. “Oh no.” He bent awkwardly and picked up the cup, turning it to show her the small chip in the rim.

Belle took the cup from his hand, shrugging, and then twisted to set it on the shelf behind her. “It’s just a cup,” she said, resting her palm against his cheek. “I don’t even have the rest of the set anymore.”

He seemed uncertain, but when she pulled him back, still smiling, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, he didn’t give the cup another thought. It was so easy to get lost in these moments with Belle and forget that outside of her apartment he was just a lowly window washer who had nothing but a cold walk home to look forward to. He sighed, and moved away, wondering for at least the tenth time that day how he should approach the subject of well, whatever this was. David’s advice replayed in his head, but he was a terrible coward when it came to these things. It was one of many reasons why his wife had left him.

“What’s wrong?” Belle asked, following him to the large window that overlooked the bay. She stopped next to him and took his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “And please don’t say ‘nothing,’ I know it’s something.”

Gold looked at her and gave her a half smile. “I just -,” he paused and sighed, and fixed his eyes out the window on the top of one of the buildings in the distance. “I don’t know what _this_ is.”

He cringed inwardly, not realizing how pathetic and stupid it sounded to ask such a thing until he'd done it. His face felt hot with shame, and he wished he'd waited to say something until it was time to leave. Running out the door seemed like a fine idea right now.

Belle frowned and pulled on his arm, until he shift and looked at her. His face looked almost pained, and she raised his hand to her lips, quickly kissing his knuckles. “By _this_ do you mean us? Or something on the bank building over there?”

Her lips twitched and he let out a gentle laugh. “Us, I guess.” Then he shrugged and looked away, muttering, “Whatever that means.”

“Hey,” she said, letting go of his hand to insinuate herself between him and the glass. “I, uh, I guess I kinda thought we were, maybe going to be - _dating?_ ”

Gold blinked. “Dating? Like -”

He motioned between the two of them and she grabbed his finger with her hand, laughing. “Yes like -” she repeated him, moving their joined hands between them.

“Okay,” he said, smiling. “I get it, I’m an idiot.”

“ _No_ ,” Belle said firmly, moving to take both of his hands in hers. “You’re not at _all_. I should have -” She shrugged. “I guess I thought you knew how I felt, and I’m sorry. I should have been clear.”

“No,” he replied, exhaling and raising one hand to run through his shaggy hair. “No, it’s - it’s fine.”

She bit at her bottom lip for a moment, studying him. “If - if you don’t want to be -”

Belle let out a high little noise as Gold pressed her against the window. His kiss was gentle but insistent, and he felt her fingers curl tight against his, their hands still trapped between them. He braced his free hand on the glass beside her head, his palm sweaty with nerves and squeaking against it. She made another sound as he broke the kiss, and he grinned.

“So, I, uh, think we’re on the same page now, yes?” She gave him a cheeky tilt of her head, still holding his hand to her chest.

He licked his lips and nodded, feeling a bit dazed that everything was exactly as he’d hoped. “Aye, that we are.”

After that, Belle finally took him to the spare bedroom, which was cluttered with unpacked boxes, knick knacks, and some furniture that looked antique but in need of refinishing. She declared it her ‘project room’ and he laughed, immediately endeared. She liked saving old things.

The wheel she had was in rough shape. The footman that connected the treadle, or foot pedal, to the large flywheel was cracked, but that was just a glorified wooden rod. He was confident they could get that part working again, but the bobbin assembly and tension knob were missing completely. They’d need full replacements for that. Belle seemed to think that if she scoured the flea market over the weekend she could come up with something.

Time passed quickly and before Gold knew it, he was going to be late getting Bae from school. She stopped him at the door for another kiss, one which felt very different from the others now that their budding feelings were out in the open. 

“You should come with me,” she said, smiling and swaying back and forth. “You’ll know what to look for at the flea market better than I would. We could even get dinner or go to a movie afterwards.”

Gold’s lips twisted. “You mean on a _date?_ ”

Belle rolled her eyes and pulled on his hands, moving them around her waist as she shifted closer. “Yes. A _date_.”

He smiled, and then sighed. It was a lovely idea but he couldn’t afford a babysitter for Bae, and he had yet to broach the subject of his son with Belle at all and what that might mean for this new _dating_ thing they were doing. He wanted Belle to like Bae, and he wanted Bae to like Belle. He wanted - well, he wanted a future that was still a very far off fantasy./p >

“I can’t,” he said finally and turned to leave.

“What? Why not” Belle questioned, stopping him again with a hand on his arm. “Roland, talk to me.”

Gold swallowed. This was the part where she found out that he was too poor to afford care for his son, not even to spend a day with her. At some point she might even find out where he lived, and the thought made his neck feel hot with shame.

“My son,” he said quietly, shrugging one shoulder. “I can’t leave him, and I’m afraid I can’t -” He sighed. “S-sometimes the lady across the hall, Ms. Potts watches him, but -”

“Bring him along.”

Gold’s mouth opened and closed, and then he frowned. “With us?”

Belle gave him a look. “Of course with us. I have to meet him sometime, don’t I?”

He blinked and pressed his lips together. She was looking at him with that same sweet, bemused smile she had earlier when she asked if they were on the same page. It was teasing, but not in a way that made him feel stupid or embarrassed. Everything about Belle was too genuine for that.

“I mean if - if that’s okay?” she added after a long moment. “We don’t -”

“No,” Gold interrupted. “No that’s - that would be fine.” He stopped and licked his lips, feeling a warmth settle in his chest at the thought of Belle finally meeting Bae. “That would be great, actually.”

Belle turned from side to side, causing the skirt of her green dress to flare out to the sides. She looked up at him, eyebrows raised hopefully. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” He nodded and smiled, and then she pushed up on her toes to kiss him one last time. His arms came around her waist, holding her close. “I can’t imagine anything better than a date with my two favorite people.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: What does Belle see in Handprints Gold? It seems she was attracted to him before she had even met him and I'm curious why? So, this is the first time Belle sees Gold. Call it a prelude to their date. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me for this not being their date. I think it's good to finally have some Belle POV out there, even if it's just a tiny taste. So, uh, in case it's not clear, imagine this Gold looking like Lachlan from California Solo and I think it's pretty goddamn obvious why Belle is attracted to him. ;) The gentle woobieness that comes with the total hotness just enhances everything else.

The glasses clinked on the counter as Belle eased them out of the bubble wrap and set them down. It was a white Cararra marble, wide with an overhang for barstools, and seemed like something that a whole family would use rather than just one person. Her father had insisted on supplementing her rent so that she could live in what he considered an “respectable part of town,” which of course meant rich and not far from his townhouse. 

It felt wrong to her, too spacious and new, not at all what she would have picked for herself. She liked older things, houses with the kind of character that didn’t stop at crown moldings and wood floors, but came from the very bones of the building. She wanted character that came with time, with being lived in, with being loved. 

Much the same as she wanted for herself. 

The whole reason she had to find a place was because she’d dumped her boyfriend. His name was on the lease at their place by the river, and while they’d always meant to add hers to it, to make it more permanent, she found herself very grateful they’d put it off. Catching him in bed with his secretary would do that she supposed.

She sighed, rolling her eyes at herself as she brushed her hair back from her forehead. The heat outside was stifling and the trips down to her car and back, even using the elevator, had left her sweaty and sticky. She looked forward to trying out the large shower in the master bath later.

Belle moved to the living room and bent to pull open the flaps on another box, peeking inside to find some random utensils and a handful of cookbooks. Somewhere in another box was a couple bottles of wine that would probably make the whole processing of moving a lot more tolerable. When she looked up, all she could do was stare. There was a man outside the window, and for a long moment she was confused. Her apartment was on the ninth floor, and the thought of someone being just outside was preposterous, until she realized it was a window washer. 

He looked older than her by several years, with hair that came to his shoulders, and features that were - unique - attractive in a less conventional way, a way that she found instantly appealing. It was a face with character, but his expression seemed tired, worn down by the world. He looked like he needed a day off, a hug, and a very cold drink. It pulled at something in her, something that wanted to know his name and his story. 

The white t-shirt he was wearing rode up when he stretched to get the corner of the window, revealing his slim torso. Belle smiled slightly, and bit her lip. His jeans sat low on his hips, and she couldn’t help the way her eyes drifted up and down. His arms flexed as he pressed the sponge against the glass, and she shook herself, forcing her eyes down and silently chastising herself.

_Really, French? Ogling a perfect stranger just doing his job?_

She lifted the box into her arms and turned, taking it back to the kitchen. When she looked back to the window, the man had turned, bending down to do something with his tools. A flush crept over her face, her eyes raking him over once again before she caught herself and looked away.

A few minutes later, he’d lowered the cradle one floor down and out of her sight, but far from out of her mind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold, Belle, and Bae go on their little "date," and Gold acquires a new accessory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some Gold family feels and bonus Jefferson! We are in the home stretch now folks!

Gold’s smile was so wide he felt like his face would split in two.

If there had been any doubts in his mind about Belle and Bae meeting, they had been thoroughly quashed. Bae wasn’t a shy boy, but he was unsure of Belle at first, staying on the other side of Gold and holding tight to his hand until they reached the first stall in the market. Belle was her usual patient, kind self, coaxing the boy to tell her what things he noticed, what he liked or found interesting about all the little trinkets in the boxes and set around the stalls. 

Twenty minutes later, Bae was holding Belle’s hand as they walked through the flea market, smiling up at her as he asked if there were any toys for sale. Gold’s chest ached as he watched them from a few steps behind. He knew Belle was different than Milah, very different in fact, but it was hard to shake the old demons. 

There was still a mile between them both in age and class. She was young, rich, and had a whole life in front of her. He was older and barely making ends meet, never mind that he struggled to care for a young child. While he believed Belle cared for him, he also believed that these struggles would prove insurmountable in the long term. 

But he couldn’t help his heart, or the way it fell for her a little more every day.

From over her shoulder, Belle glanced at him, her smile wide and bright. He grinned back and picked up his pace, coming up next to Bae. He winced as a zing of pain shot through his knee and made his toe cramp in his shoe. He was lucky the day was at least twenty degrees warmer than it had been earlier this week, but the ground was uneven and he had stumbled more than once. Abruptly, Belle stopped and frowned at him.

“Are you alright?” she asked, reaching for him with her free hand. 

Bae looked up at him too. “Papa?”

Gold shook his head and forced a smile. “I’m fine, it’s nothing.”

“Is it your leg again?” Bae asked, and Gold groaned inwardly.

So far, Belle hadn’t asked or even acted like she’d noticed, though she must have. His hobble was obvious when the weather was bad, or at the end of a long day of being on his feet.

“Roland?”

Her face was full of concern and her hand was squeezing his forearm gently. 

He sighed. “I'm fine, let's just keep going.”

Belle looked doubtful, but said nothing. Gold thought that would be the end of it, but a few minutes later they were at a stall filled with all sorts of clothing, odds and ends, and accessories. There was a spinning rack of ties, a row of hooks with beaded necklaces that looked vintage, and riots of color everywhere.

“Belle!” Came a loud voice. “Ma chere, how are you!”

A man in a red velvet coat and a paisley patterned vest in gold and black stepped out from behind some hangers filled with dresses. Belle laughed lightly and embraced the man, while Bae looked on with interest. Gold just frowned and tried to shift his weight off his aching leg.

Belle then came over to him and put her arm through his, which settled his nerves a little. “Jefferson,” she said, “this is Roland Gold and his son, Baeden.”

Jefferson clapped his hands and grinned, then reached out to shake Gold's hand.

“Delighted, my good sir.” Then he turned to Bae and bowed. “And you, young man.”

Bae laughed and bowed as well, which seemed to only further amuse Jefferson.

“Belle is one of my boutique's best customers,” he said, moving back to the dresses and selecting a short, lacy number in a deep blue. “She has a fine eye for fashion, and no tolerance for designer nonsense.”

He laid the dress over his arm, offering it to Belle. She grinned and moved to take it from him. “What do you think?” 

“I think it’s very pretty, Papa,” Bae declared. “Don’t you?”

Gold swallowed and stared at the dress, imagining Belle's legs in the summer sun, the blue lace stopping well above her knees.

Jefferson leaned in, smiling. “I think his speechlessness says it all, darling.”

Belle rolled her eyes and handed the dress back. “This not why we came here.” 

She moved to a coat rack with an umbrella stand at its base. The container was filled with walking sticks and canes and she shuffled through them, biting her lip as she looked. Pulling one out, she eyed it and then turned, holding it up with her eyebrows raised in question.

Gold’s face paled when he realized her intentions. “Oh, I don’t think -”

Belle crossed to him, and set the cane down on the ground next to him. The handle came to just the right height for his hand. She smiled. “Just try it.”

Sighing, he wrapped his fingers around the cane and hesitantly pushed down. He leaned to the side, testing to see how it would bear his weight, and relaxed when it felt firm and comfortable. It wasn’t that he’d never used one before, he had an old one at home for those few and far between days when he thought his leg might give out completely. It was an ugly metal thing, more for an old man in a care home than a forty-year-old with a badly healed ankle and an arthritic knee. He never dared to take it out with him.

But this was a sleek wooden cane in black walnut with a shiny gold handle. It was a fine thing, expensive looking, more something that should be used with a three-piece suit than his jeans and worn leather jacket. He looked from his hand to Belle, who seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for his reaction. He leaned on the cane again, and the relief in his leg the extra support gave him made him sigh.

Gold nodded. “Seems fine. I’m not sure I can afford this, though.”

She smiled and motioned to Jefferson, who left another customer to walk around Gold. “My treat,” she said softly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

He made to protest, but she shushed him with a look.

“Very dapper, Mr. Gold,” Jefferson declared, patting him on the shoulder. Then he leaned in and pretended to whisper in Gold’s ear, looking right at Belle as he did so. “With a suit that will be a real panty dropper.”

Belle’s eyes went wide and she gasped. “ _Jefferson!_ ”

Jefferson laughed, and spun on his heel. “I speak only the truth, my darling Belle. Shall I put this on your tab at the shop?”

She nodded and shooed him away, shaking her head. “Sorry about Jefferson. He’s a bit... _eccentric._ ”

“Papa?” Bae asked, tugging on the sleeve of Gold’s jacket. “What’s a panty dropper?”

Gold cringed and Belle had to bite her lip again to keep from laughing. “Well, Bae, it’s - uh...” He groped for the right words to explain such a euphemism to a six-year-old, but they simply didn’t exist.

“Is it for when I’m older?”

He bent his head and pressed his lips together, trying not to look at Belle. If he saw the flush on her face and her barely restrained grin he would lose it for sure.

“Yes, son, it’s - for when you’re much older.”

After sighing heavily, Bae ran ahead to a stall with several bins full of toys, and the two adults were finally able to laugh, letting out the odd combination of embarrassment and amusement that only a well-meaning child could create. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking at her shoes and then at his face.

He shook his head and chuckled, watching as Bae pulled out what looked like pieces of a wooden train set. “It’s no matter.”

Gold had to walk a little slower as he tried to get used to the feeling of the cane in his hand. “Jefferson seems like a very good friend.”

Her head tilted to the side. “He is. He has a daughter named Grace that he’s raising all by himself. I think that’s why he finally opened his own shop, so she has a place to go after school.”

Gold looked back at Jefferson’s stall as they walked away, and felt a pang of sympathy. He knew how hard that had to be, the long hours during the week and the extra time on the weekends at markets such as this. So long as they were able to care for their children, they could bear just about anything.

Belle looped her arm through his as they walked, bumping softly against his arm as she adjusted her stride to accommodate his new cane. He looked down at her, his lips curving slightly. “Are you collecting single fathers, Miss French?”

She rolled her eyes and squeezed him. “Hardly,” she said, pulling his arm against her. “I’m just hoarding one in particular.”

He laughed and shook his head, rubbing at his chest with the heel of his palm. It was like he could feel his heart clenching, grasping for a future he suddenly and desperately wanted; Belle and Bae and him, together. There was a strange feeling coming over him that made him antsy and tingly and excited.

_Happiness._

For the first time, it felt solid and real and possible.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The latter part of the date, and then Belle takes Gold to a fancy party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END IS NIGH!! I think you all know what happens at the end of this chapter. ;)

After the flea market, they went to dinner at Belle’s favorite cafe. Bae declared the macaroni and cheese “awesome” and the flatbread pizza Gold shared with Belle was somehow decadent and simple at the same time. Crisp prosciutto, a mix of Italian cheeses, sweet tomatoes, and paper thin slivers of garlic were topped with fresh basil and drizzled with balsamic vinegar. It cracked and melted in his mouth and the groan of pleasure he made at that first bite endlessly amused Belle.

Her foot kept brushing his shin under the table as she licked the light sauce from her fingertips, and there was a warmth in her eyes, like the moment after they kissed. It stirred something in him, something that made his belly tingle, and a part of him wished he had said the hell with paying bills and gotten that babysitter. But there would be time for all of that, he hoped.

The movie was Disney, of course, in deference to Bae, but Gold didn’t mind. The animations and songs were delightful, as was the feeling of Belle’s hand in his, resting together on her thigh. Midway through the show, her head came to rest on his shoulder, and he couldn’t resist pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head, lingering a moment to breath in the smell of her hair. He’d decided then that he was definitely falling in love with her, and smiled.

By the time they were walking Belle back to her apartment building, he’d become used to the cane, and more than that, even after a whole day of walking, his leg didn’t feel that bad. Certainly nothing that a hot bath and a good stretch wouldn’t fix.

“I guess this is me,” Belle said, turning to stand outside her apartment door. “Thank you both for a wonderful time.”

Gold smiled and leaned in for a soft, brief kiss, both of them laughing as Bae made gagging noises. “Someday you won’t think it’s so bad,” he said, ruffling his son’s hair.

Bae wrinkled his nose, but opened his arms to give Belle a hug. She knelt down to embrace the boy, and he met her eyes over Bae’s shoulder. Emotion choked his throat and he had to turn away before he started weeping in the hallway like a damn fool. 

“It was lovely to meet you, Bae,” she said, straightening.

“You too,” Bae replied. “It was lots of fun!”

Belle laughed and brushed her fingers over his hair. “I hope we can have more fun soon.”

Bae nodded, and Gold gave her one last kiss on the cheek. She squeezed his hand and held on as long as possible, only letting his fingers slip free at the last second. She watched them walk all the way to elevator doors, waving as they closed.

“I like her,” Bae declared somewhere around the third floor. “I think we should go on more dates with Belle.”

Gold grinned. “I think so too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

At first Gold felt awkward in a suit and tie, but Belle’s encouraging words and the heated looks she’d given him all evening had him feeling differently by the time they made it back to her apartment. He’d felt a bit like he was playing a part, like they were in a movie and he wasn’t just Gold the window washer. Tonight he was Mr. Gold, a man who knew enough about antiques and history to charm his way through a museum fundraiser and a fancy dinner with Belle’s boss. It was almost fun, and he was starting to look forward to the end of the year gala Belle had mentioned, instead of feeling like throwing up at the very idea of wearing a tuxedo.

Truthfully, he’d been looking forward to the end of the evening much more. Three weeks had passed since their very successful outing with Bae, and in that time Gold had only become more sure of his feelings. He was hoping to have an opportunity tonight to find out if Belle felt the same, if his nerves didn’t get the better of him again. He could hang off the side of a building on a glorified basket with nothing but a few metal rods and a rope to save him, but the thought of telling the women he loved how he felt made his palms sweat and his voice crack.

Belle smiled at him as he ambled back into the gallery. “Everything okay?”

Gold nodded. “Marco said the boys are full of his signature spaghetti and sauce, and they’re watching some movie about Legos?”

She laughed and patted his arm. “It’s a good movie, even if the ‘Everything is Awesome’ song is a little _too_ catchy.”

He gave her an odd look and decided not to inquire further. “Everything all right with your boss?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, waving a hand. “She just gets a little neurotic sometimes and I have to talk her down.”

“Speaking of neurotic…” he muttered, giving her a sheepish look. “I’m sorry I ran off like that.”

Belle shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I can imagine how it is to wonder if someone you love is okay, especially a child.”

Gold nodded again. “Well, Bae seems more than fine, so, I guess we’re, uh, free and clear for the night.”

She licked her lips and started to smile. “In that case,” she said, moving to stand in front of him and taking his free hand in hers. “Should we...go back to...my place?”

Gold swallowed and felt Belle squeeze his hand. Her eyebrows were lifted and her bottom lip was trapped under her teeth. She was waiting on him to answer, her face expectant and... _hopeful?_

“If you don’t want to -”

“If you want me to -”

They spoke at the same time and then laughed, and Gold felt some of the tension leave his body. 

“I want you to,” she said softly but quickly, and once again, he reasoned he had probably worried for nothing. “But only if you want to.”

He pulled gently on her hand until she moved a step, close enough to kiss.

“Yes,” he said, bending his head. He could feel her warm breath on his lips and smiled. “I want to.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set almost two years after the events of the first chapter, Gold and Belle get their happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a ride. Once again a one-off random prompt turned into a THING because of the prompts and love of its readers. I adore all of you, and thank you so much for

_2 years later..._

 

The stately Victorian was in an older, quieter part of town, away from the city center and the gleaming highrises that had become so familiar to them. Gold had been unsure of keeping the rather pinkish salmon color at first, with its odd green trim, but after nearly everything else about the place had been redone or restored, it seemed fitting to keep the cracked and slightly peeling exterior for another year or two.

Belle beamed at him as she bounded down the front steps to the curb where he’d parked the large moving van.

“Finally!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I was waiting forever!”

Gold squeezed her, kissed her cheek, and then stepped back to give her a look. “It was barely fifteen minutes from when I texted you. Honestly, you’re more impatient than Bae.”

She laughed and clung to his shoulders. “I think I have been _very_ patient with this whole house buying and renovation process.”

“Yes, well,” he muttered, finally pulling away from her to open the double doors on the back of the van. “If you hadn’t insisted on buying such an old, drafty thing in the first place, or doing so much of the work ourselves, it could have been done sooner.”

She rolled her eyes and then grinned. “I wanted to build our home, right here.” Then she lifted up on her toes and kissed him. “With our own two hands.”

He flashed her a smile, and then studied the stacks of boxes and covered furniture. The unpacking and arranging process appeared endless right now. There were at least four more trips like this to make before they could sleep tonight, but they would be in their own bed, in their own house. After living out of two places for the last year, nothing sounded more fulfilling than falling asleep on his feet in this ridiculous pink mausoleum, so long as Belle was by his side.

They had come a long way from a tiny rundown apartment and a stark modern condo. With Belle’s promotion to director at the museum, and the bump in pay he’d earned for managing part of the building operations, they would be just fine. There would be no more worrying about his next paycheck or wondering if he could afford enough food to feed his growing son. He wasn’t sure the newfound financial security would put a stop to his worries completely, but it was surprisingly easy to relax these days.

Well, once all the moving was done.

“Papa!” came Bae’s voice as he clamored down the steps. “Can we show Belle the secret now?”

Belle turned to look at Bae, curious, and then glanced back at Gold. “ _Secret?_ ”

Gold could hardly contain his smile. “Well, I had to keep a little something for a surprise.”

She gave him a suspicious look that turned into a smile, and the three of them walked up the front steps into their new house. The wood floor creaked pleasantly under the pressure of Gold’s cane, and he smiled. He had to admit that he loved it as much as Belle did, especially now that the once dilapidated structure was renewed and ready for them to start their lives.

“Just this way, sweetheart,” he said, guiding her down the main hallway with a hand at her back. Immediately to the left off the foyer was a parlor that Belle had decided to keep as a formal living space, and across the hall was a more spacious family room where they would soon have a TV and a comfortable leather sofa. But at the back of the house was an old library.

As they turned into the room, Belle gasped and stopped.

Gold had been skeptical of the house, right up until they’d seen this space. Despite the hole in the roof right above the room and the hole that had rotted straight through the floor into the basement from the weather, the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and the stone fireplace had sealed the deal. The room was like something out of a fairytale castle, a room where a wizard might work on his spells, or a princess would read by the fire. The way Belle’s eyes had lit up, he knew this was the only place they’d ever want to call home.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Roland...”

There was a long, electric silence as Belle moved into the room, taking in her surroundings, and Gold could barely breathe. The shelves were empty, save for a few books he’d brought with him last week and placed just to the right of the fireplace. The restored floors were shiny with fresh varnish, and the roof was now quite solid, but the surprise was what was attached to the shelves. Both sides of the room boasted twin floor-to-ceiling ladders with wide steps, and a railing at the top and bottom for them to slide along. 

“You did this?” she asked, reaching out to experimentally slide one ladder back and forth. Then she turned and looked between him and Bae. “Both of you?”

Bae nodded enthusiastically. “Papa showed me how to use the drill to put the screws in, and I helped carry the wood, and I got to turn the table saw on and off!”

Gold put his hand on his son’s shoulder, proud of even the smallest tasks the boy had accomplished. “Do you like it?” he asked, his mouth curving.

Belle’s smile wobbled as tears welled up in her eyes. “I love it.”

He let out a light _oof_ as she threw her arms around his neck again, squeezing him tight. Then she reached for Bae, who squished himself against her side and wrapped his short arms around both of them as best he could.

“And I love both of you,” she said with her face pressed against Gold’s neck.

“Can I bring my toys in now?”

Bae’s voice broke the sweet moment with a laugh from both Gold and Belle, and as soon as they nodded, the boy was off like a shot.

Belle swiped at her eyes and kept one arm around his waist as she looked around the room again. “My very own library.”

He hummed. “I think these ladders will be quite safe for many years to come.” Then he looked down at her, trying not to think of the other secret he had stowed away, the ring hidden in his toolbox that he was planning to give her on their second unofficial anniversary of the day they “met,” one hundred feet in the air, through a pane of glass. 

“Good,” she said, smiling up at him. “Because I plan on using them when I’m quite old and gray.”

He grinned and bent to kiss her, ignoring the rather calamitous sound of whatever Bae was dragging in through the front door. Her fingers curled into his shirt to keep him close for a few seconds more, as her palm pressed against his chest. Then she pulled away and called out to Bae, hurrying through the door to see what the boy was doing.

Gold smiled and ambled after her, his chest warm in the spot where her hand had been, right over his heart.


End file.
